Get What You Need
by madzebra
Summary: The first story I posted on was on a friends account and it was called 'Memento'. This is a sequal to that story and doesn't really make sense if you havn't read 'Memento' first. House's reactions when he wakes up from surgery...in reality.


_Okay, so...the very first fic I posted on was called 'Memento' and I posted it on a friends account before I created my own. And then I had such positive feedback that I kind of wrote this as a short little sequal. Both fics are House/Cuddy and this doesn't really make sense unless you've read 'Memento'. But anyway, read if you want..._

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**Get What You Need**

If she squinted, she was sure she'd see that the blue of his eyes were crystal and swimming. However, she couldn't be sure because her vision was blurred with her own tears. Her hands came up to cover her mouth, if only to stop herself from looking gormless; her mouth was hanging open in shock…disbelief…

" What?" She managed to whisper, breaking the silence, seeking clarification. She had heard him clearly, right?

" My stomach and neck are burning, my…my leg is…" he met her gaze, wide-eyed, " There's nothing."

" No pain?"

" No pain." He confirmed, and it came out as a choked laugh. She bit her lip, hands falling from her face to reveal the forming smile. She had moved closer without realising it and he towered over her, standing in his place next to his hospital bed, and she watched him experimentally rock his weight from one foot to the other. He was chuckling breathily, and it sounded like it could easily become quite manic but neither of them cared.

His right leg gave out slightly under strain and she grabbed him as he simultaneously reached out to her for support. Heart in her throat she looked up, expecting his features to be twisted in pain, but breathed a sigh of relief when she found him to still be smiling. The soft hospital night light accentuating his features beautifully.

" Muscle's still weak, obviously." he murmured, " But that can change…now."

She wondered if she was imagining feeling him shaking beneath her touch, but she made to turn away, sensing what she was witnessing to be private joy and overwhelming relief. Suddenly, though, she felt him snag her wrist in a tight grip and pull her back to him. Her breath caught, and seemed to stay so, once she saw the look on his face, knowing he had never directed an expression of such intense emotion at her in all the years she had known him, not even when they were screaming at each other. And, of course, this wasn't hate, not even close, which made it so much more breathtaking.

His face was set so seriously, and she felt herself falling into his eyes, a deep, dark blue, focussed entirely on her. All to impress upon her how truly he meant what he said next,

" Thank you…"

And then, his movements awkward at first, as if he had forgotten how to do it, he slowly wrapped his arms around her and drew her against him, giving her the time to pull away should she want to.

Not that she wanted to.

Her arms circled around his waist as she discovered that the sensations of being hugged by Greg House were not as faded a memory as she had previously thought. She couldn't say it was like coming home; rather that it was a more wonderful, rarer place than that, that was almost impossible to find, and very few had. But once one had found it, it was slightly easier to find the way back. And then, she thought as she smiled to herself, it was like one had never left. Nevertheless, it was a surprise, albeit a nice one.

" Are you sure the ketamine didn't cause any mental side-effects?" she asked, the humour evident in her tone.

She felt, as well as heard, him chuckle, " I merely love to shock you."

" I thought you preferred unpleasant shocks."

" Oh, you're enjoying yourself, too? Crap."

" I've lost a little faith in your powers of observation." She turned her head so she rested her chin instead of her cheek on his chest and looked up at him, smiling. In turn, he looked at her, and she felt one of his hands moving down, away from the innocent area of the small of her back,

" You're right. Should've figured you'd have slapped me otherwise."

" You could still have one, you're about to earn it." she warned, trying to muster a frown before hitting the hand which now rested on her ass. He grinned appreciatively, not remotely apologetic, and the same hand came up to play idly with a curl of her hair. She moved back slightly, though not out of his grasp, to roll her eyes at him. The corners of his mouth twitched up in response before his eyes, on her, grew contemplative and she tried to recall a time gone by when she had found such a look truly unnerving rather than simply annoying or, as was the case now, intriguing. Her mind offered the count of ten years ago. The contact maintained between them was relaxed and it was only when he spoke again that she was startled into realising they'd just been staring at each other for a good few minutes. She didn't have time to blush.

" You know, I think I had some incredibly fucked up dreams when I was out."

" Should this information surprise me?"

He ignored her question, " Lots of drive through meals…Ooh, exploding body parts left, right and centre…" He paused frowning, possibly making sure he recalled correctly, " Huh, testicles even!"

She couldn't contain the laughter then and snorted into his chest. He stopped talking for a moment to laugh briefly along with her, which she found wonderful in itself.

" I remember you." he said suddenly. She was curious, but he seemed to reconsider what it was he remembered about her. Still-

" What about me?"

" And then you were there again…but I was lying down then…"

" Were you, now?" She teased and he cocked an eyebrow suggestively.

" Then it all gets very hot and steamy, down and dirty. Seriously, I'm talking things that are possibly illegal in most states!"

" Well, before you even ask, you're not getting any re-enactments." She moved away arms crossed, which only served to draw his attention to her breasts for a moment.

" I do remember 'you-in-my-head' saying something blindingly obvious. I was disappointed in my brain for coming up with it."

" Oh, I'm sorry, you were talking to me? I couldn't tell considering your line of sight."

He looked up from her chest, " You said that I got shot…Stupidly apparent. And then we were talking about drugs and hand cuffs. Hmmm, almost rational considering the other stuff…"

" That's because it happened."

She said it before she could stop herself, but managed to stifle a groan of frustration. Frustration in herself. There was a certain portion of that conversation where drugs may have made him honest and exhaustion may have let her imagination run riot…

" _You…preggers?" _

" _No, remember?"_

" _I could…I-I would…want…" _

No, she told herself firmly again, it didn't mean anything. She hadn't thought he'd even remember the conversation and he still mightn't; some parts perhaps too faded or blurred into meaningless sound. Besides, given his scattered train of thought, at the time, he could've been talking about making a Reuben sandwich, for all she knew.

" Oh." he said, " So, was that when I-"

" - first woke up, yeah."

" Oh." he said again and she frowned; if Greg House was anything, he was slightly more articulate than this, " _Ohhhh…_"

Realisation.

For a moment his eyes were very wide and blue, and his eyebrows were raised, before she saw a mask of feigned ignorance fall into place and he decided to sit down on the side of the bed. She wondered whether he had put more distance between them purposely. If so, she desperately wanted to regain that sense of old intimacy and companionship. She didn't really know what he had been '_oh-_ing' about, anyway. She just hoped her theory was wrong.

Silence engulfed them for a minute or so…before they both spoke up again simultaneously:

" Did I say what I think I -"

" You didn't really say much -"

They stopped, eyes meeting again, blue on blue, and then laughed together softly. She saw something familiar in his gaze though: he needed to know, needed to ask.

"Did I say what I think I said?" he repeated. His eyes flickered to her flat, baby-less stomach and she knew.

Swallowing nervously she answered, " If you did, would you have meant it?"

"Yes."

Something warm crept up inside her and she allowed herself a small, shy smile, biting her lip so it didn't grow out of control. She saw him visibly relax once he saw this.

" Well then, maybe we should discuss it further sometime." she said softly, almost coyly. He bowed his head slightly and smiled to himself in that way of his, " Maybe when you're not on mind-altering drugs." He chuckled and looked back up at her.

" Maybe."

She smiled, feeling the closest to happiness she had felt for months, and sighed, reaching for her coat and bag. Tiredness had settled in once again.

" I'd better go." she reached down to touch his arm in parting, " I'll see you later, ok?"

" Fine, leave me to be bored out of my mind."

She glanced at her watch as she straightened again: 2:30am.

" I know it's insane but you could always _sleep_!"

She began to walk away, forcing herself not to look back.

" Cuddy!"

She rolled her eyes and turned, one questioning eyebrow raised.

" That first time I woke up…"

" Yes?"

" Were you wearing my jacket?"

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_Still working on 'Mistletoe and Wine'...don't worry ;)_


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